


Five Kisses

by TourmalineQueen



Series: Rozenn the Breton [11]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: 5 + 1, 5 Times, F/M, Five Kisses, short fic, very hit and miss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 21:36:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20378503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TourmalineQueen/pseuds/TourmalineQueen
Summary: Written for Skyrim KinkmemeOriginal Prompt: 5 Times Your OTP KissedI know it's cliche these days but I do love reading them.Five times your otp kissed (and the one time they didn't).Can be any race, gender, pairing. Doesn't matter to me! Just make my heart melt!Squicks are the usual meme stuff. Gore, bathroom stuff, non-con. Otherwise, go nuts!





	1. I In the Beginning (aka Kiss of Life)

I  
In the Beginning (aka Kiss of Life)

*-*

The little Breton was braver than Galmar had expected: the few dealings he had with Bretons outside the Reach suggested they were all merchants more interested in coin than glory, but this girl, this runty, stubborn witch-girl was never at the rear of any fight. Nor was she wary of scouting unfamiliar terrain: she could rival a Bosmer woodsman or a Nord hunter for tracking and hunting.

Galmar respected those traits in anyone; in someone he outweighed by several stone, who barely came up past his belly in height it was something more than respect. Except that the little idiot seemed to have no idea she wasn't as hardy as a Nord.

"General?" Ralof called from the campsite.

"Yes, lad?" Galmar called back; he had gone to the bluff overlooking Lake Ilinalta to have some privacy and gather his thoughts - or direct them away from the Breton. His patience with his inner self was wearing thinly.

"I - ah - I haven't seen Rozenn surface in quite a while, sir. I think maybe she's in trouble. Sir," Ralof sounded nervous.

Galmar rolled his eyes. The Breton had offered to gather slaughterfish eggs for Calcelmo before leaving Windhelm, and had dived into every single body of water they had passed to gather more of the things. Apparently today was no exception. Galmar quickly strode back to the camp - his seclusion was strictly imaginary, with the Empire having such a toehold in Falkreath it was unwise for any of them to separate from the camp entirely.

"Which way?" Galmar grunted.

Ralof pointed. "She dived about there, near the rocks, and it's been longer than her Waterbreathing potion said it would las-- Is that her?"

The water frothed and heaved; clearly a struggle was taking place just beneath the surface. Galmar ran in immediately. Rozenn was under attack from three big slaughterfish. One took a final blow from her glass mace and floated to the surface, dead, but the other two renewed their efforts, keeping her under the water. 

Galmar could see her swings had less strength in them each time. He punched one, either killing it or knocking it out, and it, too floated to the surface. He noticed Rozenn's struggles slowing, and her form sinking, the last fish nipping at her and drawing blood.

His battleaxe too large to swing, he grabbed the thrashing fish's tail nad struck up for the surface, taking breath and swinging his prize overhead to smack against the rock beside him. The fish did not move again. Galmar took a breath and dived, quickly making his way to where Rozenn was sinking, grabbed her arm and struck out for the surface.

He half-dragged her to the shore where Ralof waited anxiously. Galmar lay Rozenn out and waited for her to waken. Ralof called her name and shook her shoulder to no effect. Glamar shouldered the young Nord aside and dropped to his knees. He silently prayed to Talos and any other Divines that might be paying attention, and gave the prone Breton the kiss of life.

Soon she was coughing and spitting out what seemed like half the lake's water, and Ralof took over caring for her. Before he left for his tent her hand shot out and gripped his wrist for a long minute in silent thanks. Galmar harrumphed.

"While you're at it, boy, you might explain to the Breton how Slaughterfish earned their name."

*-*


	2. II Jubilation

II  
Jubilation (aka adrenaline has a lot to answer for)

*-*

Rozenn was actually enjoying Korvanjund - once she ignored the Legionaries she was forced to deal with. In her opinion, General Stone-Fist had seen her in need of help once too often; it was nice to be able to show how competent she truly was. And the look on his face when she had picked up the Ebony Claw and opened the puzzle door without any guesswork had been priceless.

She knew he had had doubts - even after she had brought back the Ice Wraith's teeth and the potions he had given her - because she had those same doubts about herself. This quest made her feel more like the person she knew she was rather than the hopeless cause that forgot about slaughterfish guarding their nests. 

When they came to the chamber with the slumbering Draugr Overlord, she was surprised to see he followed her lead rather than charging in bellowing war cries. With the Overlord and the Wights it woke not wakening until after they had taken several hits from sneaking Stormcloaks, it was a quick, clean fight. Rozenn snatched up the Jagged Crown from the Draugr Overlord's body and planted it on Galmar's head.

Galmar gave a great bark of laughter and hauled Rozenn up against his body, flushed with victory and breathing hard, Rozenn looked up, up, up into his eyes, grinning and kissed him hard. A hand slid down her body to cup her bottom, and she slid both arms about his neck. Ralof had to clear his throat three times before they parted. Galmar looked surprised, and quickly shoved the Jagged Crown into her hands, telling her to get it to Ulfric as fast as was possible.

Even if she never touched him again, she thought, it was worth it to be kissed, properly, once, by that great bear of a man.

*-*


	3. III Courtship (aka Maramal can be sneaky, too)

III  
Courtship (aka Maramal can be sneaky, too)

*-*

Galmar watched the little Breton wander around Wuunferth's chamber, her light fur armour showing of her buxom, feminine figure to great advantage. He leaned against the doorjamb, arms folded, and openly leered when she bent down to riffle through the contents of a crate lying on the ground. When she straightened up again he had to contain his disappointment: she was a delight to observe. She turned and headed to the exit, which he was blocking.

"General? Is there something you need from me?"

"Ulfric wants a word," Galmar replied, "and you're so quick to leave, always, I thought it best to tell you at once."

"Fair point. Lead on, General," Rozenn replied cheerfully.

"Where'd you get the armour from? I don't think Eorlund Grey-Mane or Oengul War-Anvil make fur armour, or do they?"

"There are some naked bandit corpses out by Gallows Rock," Rozenn grinned, tossing her now-longer-than-shoulder length hair out of her way and revealing something glinting below her throat.

"Brunwulf Free-Winter send you out to protect those Grayskins?" Galmar asked suspiciously.

"The bandits won't stop at Dunmer victims, General, you should know that. If they think they can get away with rape, pillage, theft and murder, they'll keep doing it - only you and Jarl Ulfric let them think they can keep doing this. Brunwulf Free-Winter is absolutely right. It is in Nord interest to stop all bandits, even if they "only" attack those you could not care less about," Rozenn had stopped walking, and turned to face Galmar, poking his chest occasionally as she ranted.

Galmar took a deep breath and smiled slowly. "Is that an Amulet of Mara around your neck? I find it hard to believe one such as you could be unattached."

Rozenn slapped Galmar hard. She immediately apologised, although he found it hard to hear over the ringing in his ears.

"I am sorry, Galmar; violence was uncalled for, but how could you say something like that?" Rozenn asked, looking crestfallen and mortified.

"Because he is more reckless and foolhardy than diplomatic?" Ulfric suggested as he passed them in the corridor, heading for his bedroom.

Galmar glared at his Jarl. "I should set her on you, Ulfric. And she did have a point."

Ulfric waved over his shoulder as he went on his way.

Galmar rubbed his cheek, where there was quite a distinct red handprint. Rozenn bit her lower lip and stood on tiptoe. 

"I can make it feel better: I'm a healer," she offered, one hand glowing gold.

"Kiss it better, why don't you," Galmar muttered.

And so Rozenn did.

The next morning, Rozenn was quite conveniently in the Palace of Kings early to meet with Ulfric over breakfast.

*-*


	4. IV Waking Up In Riften (aka honeyside honeymoon)

IV  
Waking Up In Riften (aka honeyside honeymoon)

*-*  
Galmar woke gradually in an unfamiliar, uncomfortable bed in a cramped tavern room. He was now a husband: at his age it was unexpected, he had imagined he would remain a bachelor, watching over Ulfric until the day he died. Rozenn was an interesting, not to mention pleasant development. And she was a warm, soft armful of woman. 

"You do know Keerava is going to make us pay for that bed, don't you," said Rozenn, who had gone from sound asleep to utter wakefulness from one breath to the next. Galmar chuckled, enjoying the feel of his wife lying on top of him. He stroked her neck softly, making her purr happily.

"You can afford to replace one shoddy little bed, wife," he replied lazily.

"You're the one that broke it," Rozenn countered, sliding her hands down his sides to his hips as a reminder of the previous night.

"You encouraged me," Galmar pointed out, drawing her up for a sloppy kiss.

Rozenn returned the kiss with enthusiasm before drawing back slightly. "I'll pay for Honeyside to be outfitted this week if you pay for this bed," she offered, a glint in her eye belying her serious expression.

Galmar's body was waking and making its wants known. "Deal," he growled, lifting his wife and shifting her so that she could feel those needs. Someone began banging on the wall to their left. 

"Get lost, Ulfric!" Galmar bellowed.

Someone on their right also banged on the wall. Galmar looked blank, but Rozenn glared at the wall.

"Balgruuf! You know how babies are made!"

*-*


	5. V Necromancer (aka the one time they didn't)

V  
Necromancer (aka the one time they didn't - because I won't leave the angst until the end)

*-*

"There's too many of them!" Rozenn heard the shout, but couldn't identify who made it. They were right, though, the small group of Stormcloaks had seemingly wandered into the biggest den of bandits and plunderers she had ever seen. 

At least two Stormcloaks were down, never to rise again, and several were nursing nasty injuries that could keep them out of the war or worse. 

Galmar was at the thick of the fighting, swinging his massive two-handed battleaxe like a lunatic. If the battle could be won on merit and courage alone, they wouldn't need weapons. He decapitated an Orc that had been preparing a berserker rage when she had an idea.

"Galmar! Galmar, signal a retreat!" Rozenn bellowed over the din of battle. "I have a plan!"

Galmar swung his battleaxe in a circle yelling to his soldiers to fall back and regroup. They met in the shelter of the doorway of an abandoned tower. Galmar ran a hand over his face.

"Three we've lost, but they keep coming. This better be a good plan, Breton, or we'll all dine in Sovngarde tonight."

Rozenn nodded. "You won't like it."

"Will it work?"

"Possibly. Probably will, if I have enough Magika potions. You're going to hate me, though."

Galmar gave a half-smile. "Never."

"Just wait. Please - don't send anyone out after me until you hear my Unrelenting Force. Promise you won't."

"I mislike sending you out to fight alone, Breton. There's Orcs, Argonians, some desperate Nords..."

"Promise," Rozenn repeated. "For their good and mine. I have to be a mage for a bit."

"I - Understand," Galmar nodded.

He watched her sneak around the battleground for a few minutes, then blanched and frowned. She was using Necromancy on the dead soldiers and bandits. He turned, almost jumping to find Ralof at his shoulder.

"She's gone out there alone?" Ralof asked.

"Aye. To raise the dead and give us a chance," Galmar replied, shuddering even as the words left a sickening taste in his mouth.

With Rozenn making full use of what Necromantic skills she had picked up, the tide of the battle shortly turned in the favour of the Stormcloaks, whoc charged at Rozenn's "FUS RO DAH!!!"

As they warriors cleaned up the crumbling ruin, Galmar stormed out into the night air. Rozenn followed him quietly, rubbing his back comfortingly when she found him doubled over by a snowberry bush, violently ejecting what little he had eaten that day.

"I am sorry, Galmar. I wish I could have done it differently," Rozenn said quietly.

"You did what you had to," Galmar said, avoiding her gaze. "You need to leave. You should go, now."

"I warned you that you wouldn't like me after I did it."

"It had to be done. Now go. I need to be alone."

Rozenn squeezed his shoulder once more and left him to clean his mouth out with snow, and pretend his shuddering was from the cold.

_Can we be more than just lovers if he hates that part of me?_ Rozenn wondered.


	6. VI Crafty (aka Rozenn is good at making things)

VI  
Crafty (aka Rozenn is good at making things)

*-*

"E-excuse me?" Sofie's little voice piped up in the War Room of the Palace of the Kings.

"Sofie? What brings you here, child? Are you alone?" Galmar asked, immediately leaving the (boring, repetitive) strategy meeting.

Sofie nodded slightly. "M-mama's tummy was hurting her, so she sent Calder to fetch Colette from Winterhold. She told me not to worry you, but she was making an awful lot of noise when I left. Did I do right?"

Ulfric joined them, having heard her piping voice even outside the chamber. "You did very well, young lady."

Galmar was white as the snow. "Th'baby's not due for some weeks yet," he said faintly.

Ulfric hauled him upright by the shoulder and shoved a bottle into his hand. "Drink, Galmar."

Galmar emptied the bottle in one gulp. He immediately felt calmer. "Is there a potion of Calm mixed into this brew?"

"So suspicious," Ulfric chuckled. "Yes, there is. Sleep well."

Galmar didn't remember falling asleep, but he certainly awoke abruptly, in his old bed in the Palace, curled up with his daughter, Sofie. Rozenn, he thought, she needs me.

After instructing Ulfric to watch over his sleeping daughter, Galmar returned to Hjerim, still uncertain of how much time had passed. He could hear no screaming, which might be good, but he could hear no infant squalling, either. Calder was asleep at the table, head pillowed on an arm, the other hand loosely gripping a mead bottle that Galmar suspected had also been liberally filled with a Calm potion.

In their bed, Rozenn lay still, looking deathly pale bar the dark, bruise-like circles under her eyes. Galmar's heart leapt into his throat. He took a stap in only to be shushed in the most irritating manner by another Breton woman who held a cloth-wrapped bundle in her arms.

"Shhh! Big beast! She's sleeping!"

"Colette Marence?"

"Yes."

"May I hold my child?" Galmar murmured. When she handed him the bundle his hand dwarfed it, and it moved and it looked up at him from immensely wise eyes, Galmar fell in love. He glanced at the bed to see Rozenn's eyes open, and her arms opened wide, beckoning him to her. He kissed her forehead, nose, each cheek and finally her mouth.

"Look what you did, clever girl," Galmar murmured.

"Next time, I want one Nord-sized," Rozenn replied.

"No need for a next time, wife, I barely survived this time."

"Oh, just kiss me."

Galmar kindly obliged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really, really dislike this particular chapter, it was dashed off quickly and it hits the wrong emotional notes and feels ooc for both of them. But I'm trying to post as many of my Rozenn fics as possible and this would be incomplete without.


End file.
